


Enough

by caitastrophe8499



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, F/M, Paranormal Romance, Romance, for now, ghost - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-12 00:54:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17457539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caitastrophe8499/pseuds/caitastrophe8499
Summary: Everyone is haunted by the regrets of the past.Sara just didn't think it was meant to be taken literally.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Totally a paranormal romance and quite unlike my other fics. Enjoy my excessive creative liberties with spirits and the afterlife.
> 
> It's a weird ride, but I like it.

“Shit,” Sara whispered, running her fingers through her hair and knocking on the door again. “Shitshitshit.”

Rain was pouring off the eaves above her, and she was only just avoiding the spray by huddling under the small porch. Not that the water would have made much of a difference. The darkened doorstep was suddenly illuminated by the porch light above, and Sara only had a moment to look down at her clothes and swear again, “Shit,” before the door swung open.

Ava arched her brow, her mouth a long, thin line of disapproval that Sara had been seeing only too often lately. The bathrobe made it clear Sara had woken her up, five hours late for their date. Ava’s eyes dragged down Sara’s frame and she sighed. “Get in.”

Sara stepped in, the slime on her jeans and jacket dripping on Ava’s doormat. She didn’t want it to trail anywhere else, so she stayed there until Ava returned with a towel, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

“What’s that smell?” Ava asked, in a tone that suggested she didn’t really want to know.

“A 1900’s sewer,” Sara answered, squeezing the towel along the edges of her hair to stop the dripping. “Apparently, kelpies will go to all sorts of water to avoid being caught. We dropped it at your prison. Mona was getting it settled in a tank when I left.”

Ava’s nod was perfunctory. “Good.”

Sara hesitated, lowering the towel. “Look, about our date-”

“I don’t really want to hear another excuse, Sara,” Ava said tiredly. “You said if you weren’t moving in, you’d still try to make this work.”

“I am trying,” Sara argued.

“Are you? Ava countered. “Because you sneak in after I go to bed, and you’re gone before I wake up, when you make it here at all. You haven’t been on time in the last six dates, and you drive a fucking timeship.” She gestured out the window, as if the  _ WaveRider _ were parked outside. The fact that she was swearing told Sara how absolutely she had messed up. “If you were actually trying, I think you could’ve made this work.” The tone of finality in her voice made Sara realize what this actually was about. And what it meant.

“Ava-” she said, stepping forward, her boots slick on the tile floor.

“You lied to me about Constantine. You lied to me about Charlie. I don’t get your relationship with Mick and I just…” Ava sighed. “I don’t understand you anymore, Sara. I’m not sure I ever really did.” She waved her hand between the two of them, her bathrobe tied neatly, her hair still damp from her shower, her nails neatly trimmed, her makeup-free face clean and smooth, then there was Sara - beat up boots leaving footprints of sludge, her black jeans plastered to her skin and smeared with things she didn’t want to investigate, her t-shirt ragged and soaked, her hair a rat’s nest, and blood still at the corner of her mouth. “We’re just...too different.” 

“That didn’t matter before,” Sara said, hiding the hurt in her tone by buckling it deep down, with everything else that made her uncomfortable. 

“Before, it was a fling,” Ava said, still gentle. “You’re good with flings. But this wasn’t a fling anymore and now... it isn’t working out.” Sara’s mouth opened again, and Ava smiled tightly. “Don’t pretend like part of you isn’t relieved. You love your life on the  _ WaveRider  _ and you were starting to resent being here instead of there.”

Sara didn’t want to lie or prevaricate or anything of the kind, because she respected and cared for Ava, but she...wasn’t wrong. Maybe Sara hadn’t put too much effort into getting to places on time, because she did love her life on the  _ WaveRider _ . She loved every aspect of it, and having to bury being Captain of a timeship to walk into the suburban neighborhood Ava lived in had been starting to wear on her. She felt out of place, and apparently she wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.

“I love you,” Sara said quietly, shrugging helplessly.

“I love you, too, Sara. I always will.” Ava’s voice was as honest as it had ever been, hurt and sad, but decided nonetheless. “But sometimes that’s not enough.”

Sara stood on the doorway, and Ava backed up.

“I’ll pack up the things you left here and leave them with Mona. You can get them next time you drop off a creature,” Ava said, keeping her eyes away from Sara’s. She could tell by the hitch in Ava’s voice she was on the verge of tears, but trying to hold them back. Sara wouldn’t make her suffer more.

“Thanks.” She looked at the towel in her hands, hesitant about giving in back covered in refuse.

“Just keep it,” Ava said, her hand on the door.

“Okay,” Sara said, without much of a choice. She turned around, stepping back onto the porch. “Bye, Ava.”

“Goodbye, Sara.”

She shut the door and turned out the light.

* * *

_ “Good evening, Captain Lance.” _

Sara exhaled slowly as she stepped aboard, this hull of metal and chrome more like home to her than anything else she’d had. Rain pattered off the ship, a symphony of water and metal singing through the halls. Thunder rumbled and echoed. “Hey, Gideon.” 

_ “I thought you were spending the evening with Director Sharpe.” _

Sara smiled humorlessly, leaning against the wall and tossing the soaked towel across the cargo back to lay in a stinking pile in the corner. “Well, Director Sharpe and I are done.”

_ “I am sorry to hear that.” _

Sara grinned, quirking her eyes up in a nonsensical habit to look at the ceiling, as if Gideon was actually there. “No, you’re not.”

_ “You are correct.” _

Sara laughed once, wondering if breakups should feel like this - a release of tension. She was sad, of course, but not heartbroken. She still cared for Ava, but maybe...this was for the best, even if she hadn’t been the one to figure it out first. “Any updates?”

_ “No fugitives have been found as of yet. The team returned from the Time Bureau and is asleep, except for Mr. Constantine, who left earlier.” _

“Where was he going?”

_ “When I asked, his response was less than appropriate.” _

“He’s still hurting over Des. Zari’s still looking, but the chance for a loophole is getting slim.” She continued the conversation as she walked to her quarters, the smell becoming a little too much for her. “Not that it’s an excuse to be rude to you.”

Gideon almost sighed.  _ “I will take that into account.” _

“And I’ll talk to John again about not being a dick.”

_ “That is appreciated, Captain.” _

“Anything for you, Gideon.” She opened the door to her room and felt the rest of the tension leave her shoulders. “I’m gonna take a shower and sleep. Let me know if anything weird happens.”

_ “Weird, Captain?” _

“Weirder than normal,” Sara corrected herself.

_ “Of course. Sleep well, Captain Lance.” _

“Goodnight, Gideon.” After Charlie, Zari, and John had shared their alternate timeline adventure story, everyone had treated Gideon a bit more like a real person than they already had. Sara had always been close to the AI, but she was nearly her closest confidant now.

The attached bathroom to her captain’s quarters had never been so wonderful. The hot water washed away everything from that evening - the dirt, the smell, the few tears that escaped along the way. By the time Sara got out, she felt almost like herself again. A faint ache in place, but nothing she couldn’t deal with.

She dressed in loose sweatpants and a tank top, too familiar now with being woken for late-night aberrations, fugitives, and team conflicts to risk sleeping naked like she used to do. Sitting at the plain white desk in her room, she rubbed her eyes, then, looking out over the things she had there, tipped the picture of her and Ava face down.

Thinking she’d sleep better with a drink, Sara grabbed a sweater and headed into the hallway. The sound of rain continued, the faint flash of lightning that lit up the bridge illuminating the halls sporadically. Sara made it to the kitchen, poured herself a large glass of scotch, grabbed the whole bottle just in case, then turned off the light and faced the door.

A figure, so silent she hadn’t even noticed anyone was there, stood in the entryway. She tensed, nearly dropping the glass and bottle, but lightning struck again, briefly lighting up the face, and she froze.

Crystal blue eyes, dark brow drawn in confusion and irritation, a usual smirking face twisted into a frown. The short dark and gray hair and black jacket were painfully familiar to her. His eyes met hers and her breath stopped.

“Len?” she whispered, the word nearly lost in the rain.

His frown deepened and he opened his mouth, taking a step towards her.

Then, in another flash of lightning, he was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

“Gideon, what the hell was that?” Sara asked, immediately after the...image had vanished.

_ “What was what, Captain?” _

“What did I just see?” She turned to put the bottle and glass down - no way was she sleeping now.

_ “My sensors indicate that there was nothing there.” _

Sara stalked to the bridge, her eyes sweeping left and right. Despite the burst of lightning every few seconds, and the near constant rumble of thunder beneath her feet, Sara didn’t see anything out of place. She got to the computer. “Show me the last two minutes in the kitchen.”

_ “Yes, Captain.” _

On the projected screen, Sara saw herself pouring the glass of scotch, grabbing the bottle after a moment of thought, then turning to the door, then-

Nothing.

“Gideon?”

_ “I apologize, Captain. There appears to be an...error.” _

Sara lifted her eyes to the ceiling with a frown. “An error?”

_ “Yes. My cameras for that area of the kitchen went down momentarily.” _

“And they’re back up and functioning normally now?” Sara asked.

_ “Yes.” _ If an AI could sound confused, that’s definitely what would be happening. Gideon sounded hesitant and unsure, both of which should have been impossible.

Sara looked at the screen, the shot of nothing further confusing what had happened. “Okay. I need you to run every test you can think of. Magical or mystical presences, time aberrations, anything. Then I need you to do a full physical on me. Check for any other blank spaces on your camera feeds, and if one occurs, you tell me immediately. In private,” she added.

_ “It may be helpful if I know what I’m looking for.” _

Sara hesitated. “I don’t know what it is. Just look for anything unusual.”

Sara prowled the entirety of the ship, ignoring that she lied to Gideon and working even harder to ignore why she lied. She didn’t want to admit she’d seen him. Maybe it had been nothing. Maybe it had been a hallucination like Mick. Maybe she was just going mad. If she was, she wanted to put it off as long as possible.

By morning, all Sara had to show for her efforts was a sleepless night and a migraine. The rain had stopped and the team was out on personal business, restocking their pantry with the stuff Gideon couldn’t replicate, or visiting family and friends. Sara stayed on board, going through every bit of blank space footage Gideon had pulled and finding it had been happening for almost two years. Just little blips of black throughout the ship. Never during a crucial moment and it never aligned with a technical issue. Sara couldn’t be certain, but it didn’t appear a crewmember was in the room all that often, with a few exceptions. Mick, specifically.

And it all started right about the time Leonard had died.

_ “I have asked Ms. Tomaz and Mr. Palmer to run diagnostics on my systems,” _ Gideon had announced earlier that morning. She’d made no mention of Leonard, and Sara didn’t suggest it.

Now, Sara was in her room. The windows were grey and dim, the rain cleared up, but the clouds still hovering over the ship. She didn’t turn on any lights, most of her work on the digital frame in her room that served as a computer. She pulled up the blank space from last night again, going through it frame by frame. When she found nothing, unsurprisingly, she sat back and rubbed her temples. Frustrated, she muttered, “What the hell is going on?”

“Could ask you the same thing.”

She stood, the computer going dark automatically, leaving the room only lit by the cloudy sky from outside. In the shadows by the window, she could see a figure standing, hands in his pockets and looking so damn  _ real _ . Down to the cock of his head and the casual draping of himself against the wall, because Leonard never just leaned, he had to own it.

She squeezed her eyes shut, her hand gripping the table. “This isn’t happening,” she muttered. “You’re not here.”

“And whose fault is that?” Leonard asked, that low, drawling, condescending tone a painful burst of memory. She opened her eyes when he responded. He was staring at her, hatred, or something very close to it, swirling on his countenance.

That hurt, but she’d thought too much worse about herself to let him see it. Besides, he wasn’t really here. She turned away from him, ignoring the way the hair on the back of her neck was standing straight up, how her training was screaming for her to turn around because there was someone there and he felt like a  _ threat- _

But Sara remained turned away, staring at the blank wall. “He’s not here. He’s dead. You’re not crazy.”

“Debatable,” his voice came again, rolling over her shoulders like ice and making her flinch. “But then again, this isn’t exactly the game I thought we would be playing.”

Sara was glaring at the wall, clenching her teeth in an effort not to respond.

“I thought you’d crueler,” he continued. “More fire and brimstone.”

This time, Sara glanced over her shoulder. Confusion, the fact that he wasn’t vanishing, and the fact that he was still talking making her give in. “What?”

His brow arched, and he looked at his fingers, inspecting his nails in a carefully uncaring way. “I suppose the indifference is a punishment of sorts, but I admit I’m disappointed. Hell has such a reputation, after all.”

She turned, something finally clicking. She took a step nearer and hesitantly asked, “You think you’re in Hell?”

Leonard paused, his eyes lifting from his hands to meet hers across the room. Some of the anger faded, an unfamiliar expression of confusion spreading across his face momentarily, before he buried it under a cold smirk. “I know I am.”

“How?”

His eyes were hard. “Because you’re talking to me.”

Sara took a step towards him and he stiffened slightly, leaning back from her as if she was going to hurt him.

She stopped, holding up her hands, “Snart-”

But before she could say anything else, his face hardened, and he turned away from her and stepped through her wall. Sara took one moment to consider the insanity, then bolted out the door, running into the storage closet that was next to her room, but there was no sign of him. It was as if he’d never been there. Sara wondered if it had been real at all.

* * *

Three days later, Sara had nearly convinced herself that it had all been a very realistic dream and set of strange coincidences. She walked through the kitchen without checking every corner, she could sit in the bridge without glancing over her shoulder, she could wander the halls without looking from side to side. If she stayed up a little later and slept with a light on in her room, that was her own prerogative and had nothing to do with the events she’d imagined.

She was proven wrong in a most innocuous way. They’d faced off against a banshee, and all of them were nursing headaches and a few minor cuts and bruises. The team was gathered in the medbay from some group medicine from Gideon.

“Could’ve gone worse,” Charlie said, wrapping up Zari’s arm.

“What?” Ray shouted, a smear of blood still coming out of his ear.

“I said, it could have gone worse, you muppet!” Charlie shouted.

Sara rolled her eyes, glancing at Mick.

He shrugged. “She’s not wrong. No one died this time.” He passed around the pills Gideon had synthesized, each of them taking one.

Zari winced, then snorted. “Our bar is set so damn low.”

“Well, Charlie’s right,” Sara agreed, taking a pill and passing it on. “But we probably need to step it up-” she broke off, “Where’s John?”

_ “Mr. Constantine has taken your bottle of scotch and is in his room.” _

“Of course he is,” Sara muttered, rubbing her eyes.

“This is just embarrassingly familiar.”

Sara froze, her eyes darting around the room. No one else reacted to the voice that definitely shouldn’t have been there. She found him in the corner of the medbay, casually eyeing them as if he’d done this a thousand times. Sara kept her eyes away from him, except for one moment when Mick went to grab his gun from where he’d left it on the counter. Right next to Leonard.

He reached through him to grab his gun, Leonard not reacting, and Mick not noticing.

Sara lowered her eyes as her team downed the pills, then slowly peeled away and off to their various rooms.

She ignored him still, grabbing a bandage off the counter and bending her arm to rinse it off in the sink. It wasn’t a long cut, but it was a little too deep to leave unattended. She slapped a bandage over it, then looked at Leonard.

He was still where he had been, eyeing her suspiciously.

Sara glared right back at him.

Despite the fact that things seemed to go right through him, Sara could see the tension in his jaw. Finally, he lowered his eyes to her arm. “Missed a spot.”

She looked down instinctively, catching a smear of blood on the underside of her arm. When she looked up again, Leonard was gone.

* * *

“If you’re gonna steal my booze, you can at least offer to share.”

John looked up at Sara as she entered his room, his eyes already hazy. He lifted the empty bottle. “Sorry, love. That advice came a few glass too late.”

She shook the second bottle she’d grabbed from her room. “Good thing I came prepared.”

“Can’t say no to that,” he mumbled, waving his hand at the chair in the room.

Sara moved John’s coat from the seat, hanging it over the back. Filling up his glass, she decided not to bother asking him for a second one. His room was a disaster, clothes and books everywhere, empty bottles and broken glasses on the floor. Sara sat back in the chair and took a deep drink from the bottle itself.

“So,” John said after he drained his glass completely. “You here to give me a heart to heart about how to move on?”

Sara snorted, “Like I’m qualified to give advice of any kind.”

“So why are you here, then?”

“It’s best not to drink alone.” She held out the bottle and filled up his glass again.

“That’s it?” he asked suspiciously. “No wise and witty phrases to lift my dull and drunken spirits?”

Sara ignored the sarcasm in his voice and met his gaze. “You lost someone you loved and it’s your fault. There’s no cure for it. Just trying to make it right. And if that doesn’t work, I’m told time supposedly heals or whatever. Still waiting on that.” She took another deep swig from the bottle, the scotch burning her throat slightly. John had already finished her exceptionally good stuff. “It sucks.”

John was quiet, or too busy drinking.

Sara looked away from him. “But you’re wrong if you think you need to be alone with it. Everyone here’s lost someone they cared about. Me. Ray. Zari. Mick. Even Gideon. So take the time you need, but don’t think you’re in this alone.”

“I don’t need anyone-”

“Shut up,” Sara interrupted gently. “That’s bullshit and you know it. We all need someone. But until then-” She took one last drink and handed the bottle to John. “You’ll owe me some good scotch.”

She stood and headed towards the door, too late seeing a silent figure outside the door, resting against the frame. Leonard’s eyes followed her as she stood and walked past him, they followed her down the hall, then they and their owner followed her through the door and into her room.

Sara crossed her arms, the cap of the bottle still in her hands, ridges pressing into her palm. She squeezed it tighter, hoping she’d wake up or snap out of whatever this was.

But in her heart, she knew that she was awake, and this was as real as it could be.

Leonard stared at her for a long, long time, his gaze taking in her appearance as if he were comparing it to something. His arms were crossed, too, but when he spoke, he wasn’t quite as angry as he’d been before.

“If you aren’t insane, and this isn’t Hell,” he started lowly, “then what is it?”

“How do you know it’s not Hell?” she countered.

“I don’t.”

Sara swallowed, acknowledging the silent suggestion that she might still be crazy. “I don’t know,” she said carefully.

His brows drew together at her tone, “But you have a guess.”

Too many horror movies left her with one option, if she wasn’t crazy. “You walk through walls. Some people can’t see you. You mess with the cameras. Stuff goes through you.”

“You’re saying I’m a ghost.” The last word dripped with disdain, and he began pacing around her room, his footsteps inaudible to her sensitized hearing.

“If the ethereal shoe fits.” Sara shrugged. “Question now is, are you here because of unfinished business, or to haunt someone you blame for your death?”

She hadn’t meant to say those last five words and flinched when his head snapped over to her again.

“You think I’m here to haunt you?”

“Like you said, who’s fault is it that you’re not here?” She slumped into her chair and met his glare unflinchingly. She knew the weight of her sins. “I didn’t save you.”

“So you think it’s your fault that I’m dead, and I’m here to punish you or drive you insane, because I’m a ghost.” It was said slowly and arrogantly, like he was above normal things like death.

Sara flicked the cap at him and it flew through his chest, hitting the wall behind him. “Got a better idea?”

He pressed his fingers to his chest and they didn’t seem to go through. “I don’t feel like a ghost.”

Sara stood, and took a step forward with her fingers outstretched before she thought about it. Leonard looked up, and now that he’d seen her, she couldn’t back down. Mostly confident in her assumption, Sara had a brief moment of...fear? that she might actually touch him, and she didn’t know what to make of that. She took another step, putting her within reach of him. She didn’t try to touch his face or chest, but waited, her hand extended. Leonard lifted his hand to hers and it passed straight through.

It was strange, and that was saying something considering her dayjob. It didn’t appear to happen like in the movies, though. There were no wisps, no glowing, his hand never disassembled and reassembled as her palm went through his fingers. She just passed through him, like he was a projection. He looked solid - she couldn’t see through him, and he seemed solid enough to himself - but when she tried to touch him, all she got was a cool sensation against her skin, that seemed to settle deeper into her bones the more she did it.

He lowered his hand, and met her gaze, far closer than he’d been before. He buried the confusion beneath an arched brow. “Alright, then, Ghost Whisperer, what now?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some good ol' fashioned angst. You'll probably get another chapter today, because I was terrible and didn't update quickly.
> 
> <3

With a pang of regret, Sara tossed her shredded shirt into the trash. There was no point in keeping it, not when Gideon could fabricate a new one for her, and this one was torn to pieces. Still, she’d loved that shirt, and it had been washed enough times that it was just the right amount of soft.

She added trolls to her list of magical fugitives she didn’t care about killing. Mindless killing machines didn’t sit well with her. They hadn’t managed to trap this one, so Constantine spelled it away to Hell. She wasn’t going to risk her team on a bloodthirsty, murderous monster. Even Charlie suggested just offing it, so she felt better about her decision.

The scrapes below the shirt were mostly superficial, and she’d cleaned them all out before coming back to her room. So she pulled on a t-shirt and glanced around. Her room appeared empty, but…

“Snart?”

He appeared next to the bed, rubbing his arm.

She grinned at him. “Hey, Casper.”

“Wednesday,” he greeted.

She nodded towards his arm, where he was still rubbing. “You okay?”

He stopped. “Dead. You?”

She lifted her shoulders briefly. “Not dead.”

“Good.”

“Any progress?” She took out the small notebook she’d been using to keep track of their notes and information on him. In the past week, he’d been testing his abilities, trying to gauge how much he could affect the world around him. No one else seemed capable of hearing him, though Sara had warned him not to try on Constantine. John was still on a bit of a bender, but she didn’t want to risk Leonard being exorcized or something.

He walked over to her desk, pressing him palm flat on it. “Sometimes, I can feel things. The real things, but if I lose focus-” His hand slipped through.

“Can you do it with people?”

“Apparently not. Also.” He looked down and Sara saw he was hovering a few inches off the ground. “This.”

“Geez. Seems like a big thing.”

“I suppose learning I’m a ghost made it possible for me to do more things. If I didn’t know what I was-”

“You wouldn’t know to try and test it,” Sara finished. She stretched, then picked up her pen. “Where do you go, when you’re not here?”

“Doesn’t feel like I’m going anywhere.” He leaned against her bed, arms crossed again. “I blink and suddenly it’s been a day.”

“Can you control it?”

“I can feel it coming, sometimes. And I know it works when I want to leave. But I don’t know how to stop it, except…”

“Except?”

The arms uncrossed, that crafted look of calmness settling across his face. “When you say my name.”

“Snart?”

He flinched visibly and Sara immediately felt guilty, dropping the pen and standing up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It doesn’t hurt, exactly,” he said, rubbing his arm again. “It’s like an itch. I can find you when you say it. I don’t know if it works with other people.”

She sidestepped that landmine of questioning. “So I can draw you back by saying your name?”

“Just call me Beetlejuice,” he quipped.

“Why me?”

He stared at her, no answer in his expression. They both knew what she was suggesting. If he could only be summoned by her, if he could only be seen by her, then it stood to reason he was here  _ because  _ of her. For what reason, it was unclear. She was still going with this was a botched haunting.

“I’ll see if I can get someone else to say your name,” Sara said, lowering her eyes. “We’ll see if it works, then.”

“I’ve been staying longer,” he added, changing the subject. “I used to lose giant gaps of time. Now, it’s only a few hours at a time, sometimes none in a day.”

“So you’re always around?”

“Just about.”

So much for changing in private. “Must be weird.”

“That’s a word for it.”

She chuckled, but it devolved into a yawn that she couldn’t smother. It had been a long, tiring day.

“Go to sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Sn-” she cut herself off. “Goodnight.”

She turned off the lights, and even if he was there, she couldn’t tell. So she went to sleep.

* * *

“Gideon!” Sara shouted, her hands slipping in blood.

_ “The medbay is prepped and waiting, Captain Lance. I have Mr. Palmer’s blood type in stock.” _

Ray coughed, the gaping, torn hole in his neck moving and splattering her with more of his blood. Her hands were already covered as she tried to keep pressure on it, Mick wheeling the cart they’d stolen from the castle, and Sara kneeling above him. Ray’s eyes were glassy with pain and blood loss, and Sara cursed the vampire to the darkest pits of whatever Hell Constantine had sent him to.

It had been going well, but Sara had sent Ray to tail the main vampire while they cleared out his castle, getting rid of his casket of grave dirt and freeing the children he’d trapped in the dungeons below. Ray had slipped up and now-

“Come on, Ray,” she whispered, trying to keep his eyes focused on her. “Come on.”

By the time they’d gotten him to the medbay and hooked up to the lines Gideon had presented for him, Sara’s hands were caked in blood, all the way up to her elbows. She still didn’t leave.

_ “Everything is going normally, Captain Lance,” _ Gideon said.  _ “His heart rate is stabilizing and his iron levels are increasing. The worst has passed. Mr. Palmer will recover.” _

Sara nodded numbly, still not moving, until Mick nudged her shoulder.

“Go to sleep, boss. I’ll sit with him.” When she would have argued, he turned his back on her and sat in the chair closer to Ray.

Taking the hint, Sara got to her feet and headed to her room, not seeing anyone on her way. She shut and locked the door behind her, before heading to the bathroom. She stared at her reflection, barely recognizing herself beneath the blood.

She turned the water on as hot as she could stand it, and began scrubbing at her hands, the sink turning a rusty pink.

She shouldn’t have sent Ray. She should’ve gone herself. She should’ve been there. She shouldn’t have have sent him alone. She should’ve been there for Ray-

Martin.

Rip.

Leonard.

Before she could stop it, tears were cutting through the splatters of blood on her face, and she continued to scrub at her hands, the pink turning clear then turning pink again, pain bursting along her palms.

“Sara.” A voice, unfamiliar in its gentleness, came from behind her, and she wished she could say she didn’t jump, but she did. It was the first time he’d said her name since...Since. It was too soft and forgiving and she didn’t deserve it. He was staring at her over her shoulder, his expression neutral.

“Go away,” she whispered.

“No deal,” Leonard responded. She could see his arms around her, wrapping around her wrists to pull them apart and away from the sink and the now-red rag, but all she felt was a chill against her wrists and along her back. “Come on. Stop.”

She dropped the rag into the sink after another moment, and his hands dropped away. She felt warmer and colder in equal measures. Her shirt was still red, so she removed it, too hurt to think about her audience, throwing it into the hamper after she used the cleaner inside to wipe her face.

“What happened?” Leonard asked, still behind her.

“Vampire,” she said, hating herself as she sniffed, tears still on her face. She reached down and grabbed a discarded sweater, one from the back of her closet - she didn’t wear it, but she couldn’t figure why at the moment - and tugged it on, the warm fleece comforting her.

Leonard was quiet for a long moment, and Sara had to move, to try and outrun the guilt. She went back into her bedroom, leaving the lights dim.

She climbed into bed, ignoring that Leonard was still by her. He took a seat on the floor, leaning against the frame.

“It nearly killed Ray,” Sara spoke finally, unable to see him, so it was easier to talk. “I sent him to track the vampire and it nearly killed him, and if it had-”

“If it had?” The voice was quiet and nonjudgmental from the floor.

“It would have been another person I failed to save,” she admitted in a choked whisper.

He didn’t speak, and she started to babble, to fill the quiet. “I almost didn’t save Ray. I didn’t save Rip or Martin.” She drew the edge of the sweater beneath her eyes, wiping away the evidence. “I didn’t save Laurel or my dad.”  _ I didn’t save you _ , she said silently. “I don’t know how many more I can take,” she said, hating herself for being weak.

It was quiet for a long, long time. Sara’s tears dried up and she was close to sleep before Leonard started.

“Despite what I said, you are not the reason I’m dead. I died because of my choices. Not yours. I forced you to take Mick. You didn’t have an option.” He got a little quieter, as if he wasn’t sure she was awake, “I don’t, and will never, blame you. No one else does, either. You’re doing everything you can and they know it.”

It might have been because of the quiet, the exhaustion, the admissions, or the combination of all of it, but Sara said, “I miss you.”

He didn’t say that he was right here, that she didn’t need to miss him, because they both knew what she meant. She remembered now why she didn’t wear this sweater - it had been his.

“I miss you, too.”

As she drifted off, she would have sworn that she felt a faint, cool presence on her forehead, as if someone had kissed her gently. But sleep took her before she could check.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See?? I delivered.

The knife hit the desk again with a clatter. Sara looked up over the edge of her book, seeing Leonard glaring at the knife as if it had done him a personal injury.

“If you scratch my desk,” Sara began threatening.

“Too late.”

“Dammit, Snart,” she muttered.

He merely smirked over his shoulder at her, his name not making him flinch. Sara tried to glare at him, but it dissolved into a smile.

Over the past week, Leonard had learned that if he focused, he could affect the living world, and proved it by irritating Sara to no end by switching her lights on and off incessantly. Now, he was trying to move heavier things. Papers and pencils were no problem, for short periods of time. But anything heavier tended to last only a second or two. They’d also discovered that after Sara’s breakdown and Leonard’s admission, the two of them were more comfortable around one another again.

Ray had recovered, with no ill feelings towards her.

“It was the right call, Sara,” he’d said easily, his voice no longer hoarse and the scar almost faded, thanks to Gideon’s efforts. “No question.”

Sara had ignored Leonard’s arched brow behind Ray, as if he was saying,  _ Told you so _ .

She watched Leonard without actually watching him, noticing how hard he was trying to make the knife lift and how frustrated he was getting.

“Maybe if you stop trying so hard,” she suggested, before thinking better of it. Leonard didn’t do criticism, no matter how constructive it might be.

“And what do you suggest I try?” he drawled, arms crossing. “Wishing?”

“Instinct, jackass,” Sara corrected. “Stop trying so hard.”

He inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Maybe.”

She smiled and his gaze softened slightly.

Then the alarm began blaring.

Sara jumped up, grabbing her bo staff and knife from the desk. “Gideon?”

_ “We have a magical fugitive on our hands, Captain.” _

“Got that. What and where?” Sara’s feet were pounding against the grate below her boots as she ran to the bridge.

_ “It seems to be a large, hairy humanoid in the vicinity of Yosemite National Park. I believe you call it-” _

“Bigfoot!” Ray cheered as he and Sara, along with the rest of the team, met on the bridge. “Yes! I knew he was real!”

“When?” Sara asked, strapping in.

_ “July 4th, 1983.” _

“Great, tourist season in the park,” Sara muttered.

“Here’s hoping he’s a vegetarian,” Leonard said from behind her.

Sara laughed, then saw John’s curious and bleary look. She punched in the coordinates and threw them into the time stream.

* * *

Sara hit the ground hard, her air huffing out of her lungs and her knife going scattering. The burst of a geyser off to her left made her wince, the noise and water expelled with such a violent force. The water came down, misting the area and making it hard to see. Which was unfortunate for her, seeing as she had a very irritated, and very hungry Bigfoot hunting her.

“Anybody have eyes?” Sara asked, tapping her communicator.

A chorus of no’s echoed through her ear and she cursed under her breath. “Shit.” Sara kept her head on a swivel, looking for the hulking mass of fur and fury. There was movement in the mist and she tensed, relaxing almost immediately when she saw who it was. Leonard stood a few yards in front of her. “How the hell-”

He pointed, the mist having no effect on him. “Behind you!”

Sara ducked, a massive paw swinging over her head, and rolled forward. “Found him!” she shouted into the comm.

“Stay put, we’re on our way!” Zari’s voice piped into her ear.

Sara winced as Bigfoot slammed his fists onto the ground, narrowly missing her again. This thing was  _ fast _ .

She cracked her staff underneath its jaw, hearing teeth grind against each other. Following the momentum, she swung the end around again, knocking him to the ground. Bigfoot tumbled, rolling to and over the edge of a geyser, but one of his long arms shot out, grabbing her ankle and pulling her towards him.

“Shit,” Sara hissed, trying to pull her leg free. She bashed him in the head multiple times, and though she could see blood streaming off his face, his grip didn’t relent. He snarled, pulling himself up over the edge and to his feet, still grasping her leg. She twisted and pulled, punched and kicked, but his hand was like a vice.

He drew her nearer, but Sara saw what he meant to do.

“Guys?!” she shouted into her comm.

Bigfoot threw her towards the geyser, which bubbled with boiling, acidic water.

“Sara!” Leonard shouted.

She reached out, desperate to snag something, but her fingers just brushed the edge, pebbles breaking free and she fell-

And then she stopped falling.

Sara felt pressure on her arm, looking up to see Len’s hand on her wrist. Startled, she looked at him, his expression mirroring her own shock. He was kneeling on the edge of the geyser, his hands around her arm and she could  _ feel  _ it.

“How…?” she trailed off, deciding it was better to wait until later. She grabbed onto the edge and hauled herself up, Len’s grip holding strong until she stood.

She shared another amazed glance with him, but then the others arrived, using nets and tranqs to take him down without killing him. He was vicious, but it was with no evil intent. Just his nature. A wild animal. It took some time for him to be taken down, and he managed to rattle several heads in the process, but they finally had him sleeping and chained. Once he was subdued, Sara surreptitiously scanned the area, but there was no longer any sign of Leonard.

“Are you okay?” Zari asked, as soon as they’d each caught their breath. “I thought for sure you were going over.”

“Almost did,” Sara admitted. “But I’m fine.”

“We should take Bigfoot back to the Bureau today,” Ray said. “I don’t know how long these tranquilizers are going to last on him.”

“Let’s load him up,” Sara said. She wasn’t looking forward to seeing Ava again, but maybe she could sneak in and out…

Here’s hoping.

* * *

Sara glared at her sleeve, annoyed that, once again, she’d ruined a shirt. It wasn’t that she was running low, but it was the principle of the thing. She was tired of ruining clothes. Pulling on a nondescript black shirt, she ran her fingers through her hair, pulling it back into a ponytail and trying to make herself look mildly presentable. It was less for Ava and more for Mr. Heywood in case he was walking around. She needed to look the part of presentable and effective captain.

With the  _ WaveRider  _ in the timestream, they were going at a slightly sedate pace to let everyone get changed and cleaned up before walking into the Bureau. Zari was going to land them in a few minutes.

There was a faint chill in the air and she smiled, turning around to see Leonard in the middle of the room. “Hey.”

“Hello.”

“So what the hell was that? I thought you couldn’t touch people?” Sara asked, getting closer to him.

“Apparently, we were wrong.” His voice sounded odd, as if he had a ton of things on his mind, and only humoring her conversation.

“The great Leonard Snart was wrong?” Sara teased.

“Statistically, it had to happen sometime.”

She laughed. “Well, we’re on our way to the Time Bureau. I’d recommend staying aboard, they’ve got a bunch of tech they won’t share, and I don’t know what it’ll do to you.”

“Noted. But you have some time?”

“A few minutes, yeah.”

“I’d like to...try something. If you don’t mind.” He met her eyes and something in them made Sara shiver, completely unrelated to the chill in the air when he came around.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“I think you were onto something earlier,” he said, drifting forward. “I was thinking too much. I should be acting more on...instinct.”

She swallowed tightly as he walked within inches of her. She’d forgotten how tall he was. All that slouching and leaning made him seem shorter, but he was a good foot or so taller than her. She had to work to keep her breath even, staring up at him. “Yeah?”

“Yes. Saving you wasn’t a thought, it was natural.”

“Thanks for that, by the way.”

He smiled faintly, but didn’t seem to be interested in thanks. Instead, he met her gaze squarely and murmured, “Close your eyes.”

Sara’s throat stopped working for a moment. She stared at him, unblinking, not knowing what he was going to do making her nervous and not.

“Why?” she finally managed to say, ignoring how quiet her voice had gotten.

“I want to try something. I don’t want sight altering the results.” He had gotten quieter, too.

Sara kept his gaze for another breath, then shut her eyes, tension radiating off of every inch of her.

“Relax, assassin,” he said, his voice coming from behind her now. “Don’t you trust me?”

“No.”

He chuckled. “Good.”

She exhaled slowly, trying to force herself to calm down. This was just a test of his abilities. Nothing more.

A cool finger touched the back of her hand and she jumped. It wasn’t cold, necessarily. Cooler, definitely, than the rest of her skin, but just a slight decrease in temperature. She could feel the tip of his finger as he drew it down and over her knuckles.

“You can feel that?” he asked, in front of her again.

“Yes.”

It started moving back up and she kept her eyes closed with an effort. The finger dragged up her wrist, her forearm, the crease of her elbow, followed the line of her bicep and over the edge of her sleeve.

“Why don’t you call me Len anymore?”

She nearly opened her eyes, but remembered at the last second. She couldn’t help the frown that she knew appeared on her face, faint confusion at his question. “What?”

“You did, that first night. But not since. Why?” His hand was still on her, she could feel a gentle tug on her hair as he grasped a lock.

“I don’t know. You don’t call me Sara, usually.”

“I’m aware. And you’re a liar.”

The cold touch hit her skin again. She could feel the pressure of his touch as it trailed up her neck, the chill of his fingers as they ran along her jaw, the brush of his thumb along her lip. Her mouth was dry and she had to clear it a couple times to speak.

“Len was the guy I lost,” she said, his thumb moving to the corner of her mouth as she spoke, but not leaving her. “The one I got close to. I didn’t want to get close to you, and lose you, too. Again.”

She could feel his arm around her and, even more, she felt his jacket as she fisted her hands in the material between them. She held him tightly, as if she might lose him right now.

“Why?”

“Because I…” God, she was choking on simple words and phrases. “I don’t think I can survive losing another person I love.”

“Seems you were right about instinct,” he said after a quiet, tense moment. “Catching things without thinking about it, moving something without considering how. Saving someone I care about.”

Sara opened her eyes and Leonard leaned down to her. His mouth was cool, but like he’d been outside in winter, not dead. Sara leaned into him, parting her lips. The combination of hot and cold was intoxicating, something she’d never experienced. The memory of their first - last - kiss was fading in the light of this one. Despite the fact that they’d both been alive the first time, it had tasted like death and tears. Now, even though he was dead, it felt more alive than Sara had been in a long time, electricity burning through her veins and she made a sound in the back of her throat, and Len’s hands tightened on her, knotted in her hair and pulling her closer.

The only thing that felt off was that her hands were against his chest, trapped between the two of them, and though she could feel her own heart galloping in her chest, there was nothing from him. His breath - did he even need to breathe? - came raggedly as she pulled away from him, dragging in a breath of her own before she jumped back in. Chilled fingers pressed beneath the hem of her shirt and Sara started to push his jacket off-

_ “Coming in on the Bureau. All hands on deck!”  _ Zari’s voice echoed through the room, making Sara jump and suddenly Leonard wasn’t corporeal any longer, she slipped through his arms.

“Shit,” she said, fixing her hair with shaking hands.

He looked a little frazzled, and she preened silently for a moment. Not only had she been able to throw Leonard Snart for a loop, she’d done it without him having a pulse to race. He met her eyes and the two of them smiled simultaneously, no awkwardness between them at their actions or sudden stop.

“Guess we’ll have to try this again later.” There was a faint question in there -  _ do you want to? _

“Sounds good,” Sara answered, trying to hide exactly how much she wanted to try right this second. Grabbing her jacket from the back of the door, she started out. “I’ll see you later, Len.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Sara.”

* * *

Bigfoot threw himself against the barrier, yelping slightly before curling up in the nest Mona had constructed for him.

“He’s still coming off the drugs,” Mona explained. “He’ll be right as rain tomorrow morning, just in time for breakfast!”

Bigfoot snarled quietly and Mona grinned. “We’re going to be such good friends.”

Sara smothered her smile and glanced down at Mona. “I’m sure.”

The rest of the team was milling around, chatting with old friends and new. Mick and Ray had surrounded Nate to catch him up on the most recent events. Mr. Heywood was discussing the previous fugitives they’d met with Zari and Charlie. John had vanished and Sara made a mental note to frisk him before he got on the  _ WaveRider _ . Not that she wanted to keep him from drinking, but she definitely wanted to keep him from alcohol poisoning.

“Director Sharpe gave me a box for you,” Mona said suddenly, obviously remembering. “Do you want me to get it?”

“I’ll go with you,” Sara said. “I’ll head back to the ship.” She caught Zari’s eye, motioning her intentions and Zari nodded, turning back to her conversation.

Mona kept glancing at Sara in the hallway, until Sara finally sighed. “Yes, Mona?”

“Did you and Director Sharpe really break up?” she asked timidly.

Sara contained her second sigh. “Yeah, we did.”

“Why?”

“We’re just a little too different.” She kept her tone short, hoping Mona would take the hint. No such luck.

“She just seems so sad, now.”

“Well-”

“Sara?”

Sara cursed beneath her breath, then turned, seeing Ava coming out of the conference room behind her. The director looked as put together as always, though Sara did see a few new lines in her face as she smoothed down the planes of her suit.

“Hey, Ava.”

“What are you doing here?” Ava asked, stepping a little nearer.

Sara gestured back to the prison. “Dropping off Bigfoot. Gary took the call and had it all set up before we arrived. Sorry.”

“No, don’t be-”

“Should I not-”

“It’s fine,” Ava said, forcing a smile. She looked pointedly at Mona, who flushed.

“Right. I’ll go grab Captain Lance’s box. I mean, her things,” Mona said, backing up.

Ava rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“I see it’s business as usual around here,” Sara said lightly.

Ava snorted. “That’s a word for it.” She smiled, some of those lines disappearing. “How have you been?”

“Keeping busy,” Sara said. Though she cared for Ava, it wasn’t unture that she hadn’t exactly been at the top of Sara’s mind in the past couple weeks. She didn’t want to hurt her with the truth. “You?”

Ava gestured for Sara to follow her to her office. Reluctantly, Sara did, feeling like this was a bad idea. That idea intensified as Ava shut the door behind her. 

“Look, Sara, maybe I was a little hasty,” Ava said, tucking her hair behind her ear in her familiar, nervous gesture. “I...I really miss you. I knew it would hurt, but I didn’t expect it to be quite so much.”

Sara softened slightly, Ava’s gentle eyes and tone comfortably familiar to her. It would be easy to go back, the two of them fit together alright, fall into their old routine...but then Ava would want more of a commitment here, as she was right to want, and it would mean less time on the  _ WaveRider _ , and Sara would be in the exact same place she had been when Ava had broken it off the first time.

Besides, there was another, larger part of her that cried out not for warmth and routine long hair and gentle eyes, but ice and excitement and sharp corners and sarcasm-

Sara smiled. “Just because it hurts doesn’t mean it was the wrong choice.”

“Sara-”

There was a knock on the door and Sara opened it before Ava could ask them to go away. “Hey, Nate.”

He grinned. “Hey, Sara. Director Sharpe, there’s a group here from Central City to look over the prison?”

Ava was lost for a moment, clearly wanting to talk to Sara but knowing it wasn’t going to be what she wanted to hear. So she sighed. “Yes. I’ll meet them. Goodbye, Captain Lance.”

“I’ll see you around, Director Sharpe.” Sara gave her a teasing salute, then stepped out to see Mona waiting with a cardboard box.

“Here you are,” Mona said, depositing the box in Sara’s arms. She sighed wistfully at Sara, then glanced at Ava’s door. “The end of a era.”

Sara chuckled. “And the beginning of a new one.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

Sara got back to the ship later in the evening. She’d handed off her box of stuff to Mick at the Bureau, needing to blow off some steam instead of going back to the ship. Not that she was mad at Ava, necessarily, but she was mad about being put in that position. Mick glanced at it and then back up at her.

“You and the bit-...director are done?” he asked, uncharacteristically correcting himself.

“Yeah. Have been for a while.”

Mick stared at her for a long minute. “You seem happier.”

She smothered her smile and put her hand on top of it. “There’s a bottle of vodka in there. I expect it to still be there when I get it back.”

“We’ll see about that,” he grinned. “Where are you off to?”

“I’m going to get a drink with Nate and Charlie. Try not blow anything up.”

Without any promises made, Sara joined Nate, Charlie, and an unexpected Zari out on the town for a couple hours of bar hopping, Zari there for conversation rather than drinking. It was good for her soul, the polished wood, heavy shot glasses, the burn of liquor and smell of grease in the air. She’d spent too much of her shore leave with Ava, who didn’t particularly care for the dive bar scene. It was nice to go out and have a good night out with friends.

When they got back and helped a surprisingly drunk Charlie into her room, said goodbye to Nate, and went their separate ways, Sara checked in on the rest of the crew, seeing that everyone, even Constantine was back and in bed. No surprise, it was after two.

She took a shower, sobering up, and checked the box Mick had left by her door. The vodka was there, but significantly lower than before. She rolled her eyes and slid into bed, tempting fate and wearing only a large t-shirt. Despite the early hour and the long day, she wasn’t tired. She tossed and turned, staring into the darkness.

“Len?” she called quietly.

There wasn’t an answer.

Leonard hadn’t made an appearance since this afternoon and she was wondering if he was planning something. The thought had barely crossed her mind when a chill crept up behind her.

Sara lay on her side in bed, knowing that, even though he wasn’t making a sound, Leonard was behind her. Ever so gently, she felt a cool hand on her hip, a set of cold lips on her shoulder.

She shivered, but it had nothing to do with the cold.

“Trying again?” she murmured.

He chuckled, low and dark behind her and Sara’s heart lurched into overdrive - this is what she had been missing with Ava. “No.”

She rolled onto her back to face him, him leaning over her, mostly visible in the darkness. “No?”

“This isn’t trying or practice, Sara.” He played with a lock of her hair, avoiding her eyes, and completely solid. “Before I died, I wanted...I’m tired of wasting time.”

Sara reached up, her thumb running beneath his eye, smoothing the lines that would never get any deeper, studying the hair that would never go any greyer. Her hand cupped his cheek, and he leaned into it slightly, his skin cool, but firm and real beneath her fingers. “What did you want?”

His knee nudged between her legs and he rested above her, his elbows braced on either side of her, holding his weight off of her. “You and me.”

“I want that, too,” she said.

“Still?” he asked. Though it was clear he wanted her to say yes, he was still checking and double checking. To be fair, it was a fair question. A relationship with a dead man wasn’t normal by any stretch of her vivid imagination.

But since when did her life ever run normal?

“Always,” she said firmly. Sara pulled him down to her and kissed him.

Leonard pressed her into the mattress, his lips chasing hers back to the pillow. Sara’s breath caught and came shorter immediately. The adrenaline and the rush-

But it wasn’t just that. She had adrenaline and rushes when she was stranded in Salem. This was more than a one night stand, this was something they’d both wanted for a long time, coming to fruition after they both thought it was impossible.

She’d loved Leonard before he’d died. And now she loved him after he died.

Even more insane, he loved her, too.

Despite his lower body temperature, Sara found that she was starting to burn under his lips and hands, the shirt discarded and the sheets shoved down as Leonard wreaked havoc across her skin, that minute attention to detail now directed on her, not sparing a single inch or the rope of scars or the marks and lines of age. She lay against the pillow, unable to do much more than run her hands over his shoulders and back, pressing her lips to his shoulder and neck, her breath ragged in the quiet room.

His fingers caught and twisted out a cry from her and she bit his shoulder in retaliation. He jumped, leaning back to glare at her. “Watch it, assassin.”

“Stop playing around, crook.”

“It’s half the fun.”

“Know what’s even more fun?” she countered, wrapping her leg around his and pulling his hips against hers.

He grinned, the easy banter they had in life and unlife tracking into the bedroom as well. “How about a trick?”

Exasperated, she rolled her eyes, “Len, now is-”

He was instantly and completely without a stitch of clothing.

Sara leaned back, then caught his eye with an arched brow. “That is a neat trick.” She considered for a moment, surprise taking her out of the moment. “What if I’d taken off your jacket?”

“It vanishes.”

“Huh. But what-”

He leaned closer to her, his hips finding their place between hers. “Is this really what you want to discuss right now?” he murmured.

“No.” She pulled him nearer, her heel pressing into his back as he slid into place slowly, the noises in the room suddenly silent as Sara held her breath and Leonard held his tongue. Only when they were as close as they could be, did Sara exhale shakily, Leonard staring at her, searching her face for any sign of discomfort.

She quirked her lips and rocked her hips, and it was enough of an invitation for him to move. Slowly, ever so carefully, drawing her inexorably to the edge of something she’d experienced many times, but never like this.

Surprisingly, he kept it slow and gentle, none of the bite she’d expected from Leonard Snart, robber of ATMs. She heard a hitch in his breathing, and ran her hands down his neck, holding him close.

The bite would come, she knew. It wasn’t in their nature to be this gentle all the time. But this was about missed chances and second chances. This one was to share something that was more than sex.

The thought made her squeeze her eyes shut, the unexpected affection hitting her as hard as punch, and she found it hard to breathe.

He didn’t tell her to open her eyes, didn’t tell her to look at him, because she felt Leonard bury his face in her neck, his lips against her skin, moving in words that she couldn’t hear, but she  _ felt  _ in her soul. The intimacy of that simple action pushed her over the edge, and he followed a few seconds later, never relaxing his hold on her, clutching her tightly as if she were the one that tended to go incorporeal.

After they both caught their breath, (did he seriously need to breathe, she still wondered) Sara went to the bathroom and cleaned up quickly, grabbing the shirt from earlier off the floor and climbing back into bed. Leonard was still there, beneath covers that showed someone was there.

“How are you so much more solid?” she asked, snuggling into his side and shivering delightedly. She loved being a little cold for bed.

He seemed not to know what to do with him arms, so she moved them into place, one wrapping around her back, and the other playing with her fingers on his chest. Only when he was more relaxed did he remember to answer. “Practice, I suppose.” He didn’t sound convinced.

Sara turned her head up to look at him, the question in her eyes.

He met her gaze for a moment, then looked at the ceiling. “It might be because of you.”

“Why?”

“Same reason why I feel you saying my name.”

Sara looked away from him, the realization he really was here to haunt her hitting a little deeper than she thought. “You’re here because of me.”

“Yes, but...not in the way you think,” he murmured. His tone said he didn’t want to go into it now, so Sara didn’t press.

“What happens when you sleep?”

“I don’t.”

Sara’s head popped up at that, to look him in the eye. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” he smiled faintly. “Seriously. Don’t sleep. Don’t eat.”

“What have you been doing when I’m sleeping, then?”

“Walking. Reading, now that I can move books. Watching-” he cut himself off and Sara saw the undead crook flush slightly. God, this ghost shit was complicated.

“Watching what?” He just stared at her, and she smirked. “Do you watch me sleep, Mr.  _ Twilight  _ vampire?”

“Ghost. Not vampire.”

“Nuances.”

“You aren’t...” he hesitated, then soldiered on. “You aren’t having nightmares like you used to.”

She hadn’t really thought about it, but he was right. She wasn’t waking up exhausted like she normally did. “They can stop for a while sometimes, but yeah. I’m haven’t in a while.”

“Good.”

It may have been mildly creepy, but her ghostly boyfriend watching over her while she slept wasn’t the weirdest thing that could happen.

“Can I ask you something?” she said, replacing her head on his silent chest.

“Like saying no would stop you.”

“What happened?” she asked.

Leonard was quiet for a very long time, and she would have thought he was sleeping, except for the fact he just said he didn’t.

His hand tightened over hers as he started speaking, and Sara bit her lip to keep from interrupting.

“I remember the Oculus. The light. The pain. It felt like forever. Then, it suddenly stopped and I was here, on the  _ WaveRider _ . I tried to talk to everyone, but no one answered. I think I realized I was dead, then. I took to talking to people, as much as I could. Then I would blink and things would change. The ship was silent, on the bottom of the ocean. Stein was gone. Rip gone. I saw me, walking with the crew, but it wasn’t me. I didn’t know what was happening, no one could see me, but I couldn’t leave. Not that I tried very hard.”

His hand relaxed slightly, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of her hand. “Mick saw me, a couple times. I don’t remember what I said to him, but I doubt it was anything positive. I spent most of that time bitter and thinking this was a punishment for my various sins. Watching the team move on, replace, and forget.”

“No one forgot,” Sara said, breaking her rule. “And no one could replace you.”

He didn’t respond, but his hand squeezed her gently, silently saying that whatever anger he’d harbored was gone. “Then, suddenly, you looked at me. You saw me, and you said my name. I thought it was some kind of game, but...here we are.”

Sara mulled over it for a while, her brain trying to understand what he’d been through over the past few years and coming up a little short. “Do you wish you had...moved on, or whatever?”

“I did, at first,” he admitted. “I couldn’t control anything. I didn’t understand what was happening.”

Sounded like his nightmare, and it probably had been.

“I’m glad I didn’t, though. This isn’t exactly how I pictured my future, but it’s close.”

At his words, Sara had a flash of what awaited her - piloting the  _ WaveRider _ , Leonard at her side. Frequenting dive bars at all hours. Keeping him up to date with Mick and Lisa’s lives. Never having children, but she’d be Aunt Sara to everyone else’s, and that seemed like enough. And even death wasn’t terrifying, because he would be there waiting for her. It wasn’t perfect, by any means, but it was good.

“Not a bad life,” she said, finally feeling some of that exhaustion seeping in.

“Or unlife.”

She closed her eyes with a smile, shuffling a little closer to him.

It was some time later, his thumb still tracing lines on her hip, Sara heard him very quietly murmur, “I’m here because you are my unfinished business. I love you, Sara Lance.”

“I love you, too.”

He flinched, obviously not expecting her to still be awake. Sara laughed sleepily, holding him a little tighter until he relaxed, then drifted off for real.

* * *

Of course, it was right about then everything hit the fan.

In spite of the late night the evening before, Sara was up only a few hours later, showered and dressed and heading down to breakfast. Leonard followed her, hanging out in the background as the team stumbled into the kitchen, wearing varying degrees of hangovers and hunger.

Sara was sipping on a mug of coffee, watching Leonard watch Mick and Charlie talk, when Constantine came in, his eyes clear for the first time in weeks.

“Hey, John,” Sara said, grabbing another mug. “Coffee?”

“I wouldn’t drink that swill if you-”

He broke off, and Sara turned to see what had garnered his attention. He was glaring at Leonard.  _ At  _ him.

“Shit,” Sara muttered, putting the mug down. “John, wait-”

John jammed his hand into his pocket, pulling out something and blowing it into the air in front of him.  _ “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas-” _

Leonard looked over, shock and pain on his face as the air around him began to sizzle.

Sara didn’t know Latin, or whatever the hell John was speaking, but she recognized the first word enough to know what he was doing.

“No!” She shoved John’s hand down, getting in his way.

He broke off, his eyes narrowed.

The rest of the crew was silent, staring at the two of them, facing off against each other, tension from anger and a residue of the spell hanging in the air. Ray’s mouth gaped open, Zari was frowning at the two of them, Mick’s hand was on his holster as his eyes darted between her and John, and even Charlie looked startled.

“Oh, Sara,” John said lowly, “you have some explaining to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm claiming Stephanie Meyer-esque logic here. Don't questions the in's and out's (heh) of this chapter. Just roll with it. I will not entertain any questions. I'm pulling from obviously realistic source material like the Beetlejuice movie and cartoon (physical but dead, and still able to party).


	6. Chapter 6

“What the hell’s going on?” Mick rumbled, moving to stand behind Sara, his side obviously clear.

“Our lovely captain here has been keeping secrets,” John said, his tone even more arrogant than usual. “We’re all out there, risking our lives to get rid of magical fugitives, and she’s been keeping one right under our noses.”

“What’s he talking about, Sara?” Zari asked, stepping closer to try and diffuse the tension.

Sara hesitated, working hard not to look back at Leonard.

“Go on,” John challenged. “Tell them.”

“It started a few weeks ago,” Sara said quietly. “I started seeing...a ghost.”

Ray’s expression was easy to read, and she addressed it before moving further on.

“I’m not crazy. And John sees him, too. It’s real,” Sara said. Ray seemed to accept that, so she tried to move on. “We started talking and realized it was real. He’s been hanging around since then. He saved my life when Bigfoot threw me.”

“So, there’s really a ghost here?” Ray asked, spreading his arms out.

She finally turned around, seeing Ray flailing about. Leonard was a few feet closer, the pain gone from his face. He was watching her carefully, concern that he’d ruined her crew almost perfectly hidden beneath his expression. “You okay?” she asked him, knowing that there was no going back at this point. Might as well go for broke.

“I’m fine,” he told her. His eyes darted past her to John. “Hurt like a bitch, but I’ve had worse.”

John’s expression wavered, and Sara belatedly realized that John might think this was the Leonard Snart he’d met.

“He’s not the one you know,” Sara said quietly. “He’s the one from this Earth. From before you.”

John glanced over at her, and she saw a few answers slide into place. Her conversation with him a few weeks ago came back to her mind.

_ “Everyone here’s lost someone they cared about.” _

“Who is it?” Charlie asked.

Sara hesitated again, her eyes darting to Mick. He was frowning in Leonard’s general direction, but she could tell he wasn’t seeing him, but was also almost sure who she was seeing.

John sighed, “In for a penny…” He rubbed his hands together, then spoke again, this spell making the air around Leonard shimmer, but he didn’t appear to be in pain.  _ “ _ _ Ostende spirituum ad lucem, trahendum ex eorum tenebris.” _

When he stopped, Leonard looked exactly the same, and he looked at Sara with a shrug. “Guess it didn’t take.”

“Snart?” Mick whispered.

Everyone in the room was staring at Leonard, who had apparently become visible to all of them. Mick reached out his hand and touched him, and Leonard remained solid.

“You’re here?” Mick asked, and Ray stepped nearer too, his eyes wide.

“Yeah,” Leonard answered. “Dead. But here.”

Charlie poked him. “You’re physical.”

“And you’re not Amaya.”

She ignored that, glancing at John. “Only spirits I’ve known who could make themselves fully corporeal were-”

“Poltergeists,” John finished.

“Like the movie?” Ray asked. “But Snart wouldn’t hurt any of us.”

John shrugged. “Not the best explanation, but it’s all I’ve got. Only ones who can make themselves physically corporeal. Some of them don’t even know they’re dead. So what’ll we do?”

“What?” Sara asked.

“He’s gotta move on. I can send him to Hell, but-”

Mick, Ray, and Sara started in a chorus of arguments. Leonard and Charlie remained quiet, and Zari looked unsure.

John looked between them. “So you’re saying you want a ghost on your crew? What happened to returning things to their natural state?”

“He’s been around longer than Mallus’s cage opening,” Sara argued. “It wasn’t our fault he’s here, so we shouldn't force him anywhere.”

“Leonard was a member of this team before any of you, and he saved our lives, he deserves to stay!”

“You send him to Hell,” Mick said threateningly, “You’ll be following him.”

“Enough,” Zari said, getting between them. “John, shut up. Mick, put the gun down.” She looked at Charlie. “What happens to ghosts who’ve been around for a while?”

“After a few hundred years some can go a bit barmy, but some hang around for centuries without ever going off,” Charlie said. “And you know I’m no fan of the Hell route.”

“Leonard. Snart,” Zari said, exasperated. “Whatever. Do you want to move on?”

He glanced at Sara. “Not particularly.”

“You got any unfinished business?”

“Other than living?” he countered, not answering the question.

“What’s the big deal?” Zari asked John. “He wants to stay. He can stay until he wants to leave.”

“The big deal, is that what’s dead should stay dead and gone.”

Sara arched a brow at that, “Oh yeah?”

John huffed out, “That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s what you said. If I’m not mistaken, you’re one of the ones who helped bring me back. So what’s your problem now?”

“You were only missing your soul, Sara. You were still alive.”

“In the literal sense of the word, sure. But that wasn’t living,” Sara said. “I’ve died twice. You’re condemned to Hell. Ray is legally dead. Zari’s from the future, Mick’s sleeping with his own fictional character, and Charlie’s a shapeshifter. If ever there was a place for a ghost, it’s here.”

John opened his mouth, the closed it and shook his head. “You’re the captain.”

“How long will I be able to see him?” Mick asked.

“Permanent, until I remove it. He’s visible to everyone, now.”

“Think you can teach me the removal spell?” Leonard asked. “And how to make myself visible again?”

John arched a brow. “We can try.”

_ “Captain Lance, Director Sharpe wishes to speak with you.” _

The room got quiet, and Sara resisted the urge to roll her eyes at them. “Be right there, Gideon.”

Leonard cast her a faint smirk as she left, and she grinned. Despite the way this had come about, she was grateful everyone that mattered to her knew. It’d be like having him on the team again.

For the first time, Sara didn’t just feel like she was running from everything. She was content. Happy with her situation. It wasn’t ideal, obviously, but it was better than she could have ever hoped for, and that was something worth celebrating.

She got to the bridge, and had Gideon open up the line to Ava. She smiled, crossing her arms. “Director Sharpe.”

“Sara,” Ava answered. The lines in her face had gotten deeper.

Sara’s arms uncrossed, and the words escaped before she could think to question their appropriateness, “Are you okay?”

Ava’s stoic facade wavered slightly. “I...um…”

“Ava.”

“My mom died.”

Sara’s heart went out to her, stuttered, then came back in confusion. “Wait, your mom…?”

“The actor playing my mom,” Ava clarified. “Heart attack. And I know she wasn’t my real mom, but I have all these memories of her, and it feels like…” she trailed off and lowered her gaze.

“I’m so sorry,” Sara said gently.

Ava sniffed, grabbing a tissue. Sara stood in silence for a few moments, letting her regain her composure.

“I know I have no right to ask this of you,” Ava started, “but I was wondering if you could meet me for drinks.”

Sara stared at her before dropping her gaze. “That’s probably not a great idea.”

“But-”

“You’re hurt and you’re confused,” Sara said, keeping her voice soft. “Hanging out with an ex and feeling like that is a recipe for trouble.”

“What if I don’t want you be an ex?”

Sara froze. “Ava-”

“I miss you, Sara. I miss date nights, I miss going out for drinks, I miss having you at work parties to complain about everyone. I miss your pictures around my house. I even miss your bed on the  _ WaveRider _ . I miss you.”

“You hate my bed. And I was always late to date night. Rose colored glasses, Ava.”

“Just think about it, okay? I’ll be at my house if you want to get that drink tonight or any other night.” Ava threw out her words quickly, as if that would be enough to convince Sara. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Ava-”

“Bye.” Ava terminated the connection and Sara huffed out air in frustration.

_ “Seems like Director Sharpe is having second thoughts.” _

“Second thoughts was yesterday. Today’s third thoughts.” It wasn’t like she didn’t care about Ava, she did. But they’d broken up for a reason, and even though Sara hadn’t been on board at first, it was obvious this was better.

_ “I’ve heard that people always want what they can’t have.” _

“Is that why people are so into you, Gideon?”

_ “It is one of many reasons, yes.” _

Sara laughed, then returned to the kitchen, pushing thoughts of Ava away.

* * *

Leonard had been kept busy with Mick and Ray for most of the day, then was spending some time with Constantine so he could learn the spells to make himself visible and invisible at will. Could be a handy trick, should they need it.

Sara spent her time with Zari, patching up the things that had been falling apart over the past few weeks, while Gideon continuously scanned for more fugitives.

“Wrench,” Zari said, holding out her hand.

Sara passed it to her, working on the panel above Zari.

“So, you and Snart, huh?” Zari said, her voice muffled beneath the panel.

Sara smirked, but didn’t answer.

“I would have to be as drunk as John not to see the way you jumped in front of him. You guys picked up where you left off?”

She couldn’t help it. “And then some.”

Zari scooted out from beneath the machinery, arching a brow at Sara. “Remind me to ask you about the mechanics of that one day.”

“I’m not all that interested in understanding it. Just enjoying.”

Zari cocked her head, grabbing a screwdriver and putting the wrench down. “You seem happy.” The comment was almost a throwaway line, almost hiding how much Zari wanted it to be true.

“I am.”

“Good. Okay, try it now.”

Sara popped the panel back into place and gave it a tap. It lit up with Gideon’s familiar blue light.

_ “Systems are back up to full efficiency.” _

“Beautiful,” Zari said. “All right, Cap. I’m turning in.”

Sara glanced out the bay windows and saw that it had gone dark. “Geez. Yeah. Me too.”

“Say hi to Snart for me,” Zari teased, already in the hall.

Sara chuckled, cleaned up the tools and returned them to their proper place, then went to her room.

Leonard was already there, sitting at her desk. He looked a little tired. Which was impossible.

“Catching up take it out of you?” Sara asked as the door shut behind her.

“Something like that.”

Sara walked over to him, perching on the edge of her desk and canting her head to the side. “You okay?”

Leonard didn’t answer, he merely slid over a frame. One that she’d flipped a while ago and forgot about. She didn’t need to look at it.

“Director Ava Sharpe of the Time Bureau. She and I were a couple, for a while. We broke up before you came back.” Sara handed the photo back to him.

“You look happy.”

“We were, then. Not so much recently.”

“Why?”

There was something in her tone that made her want to stop this conversation, but she Leonard well enough to know that he wouldn’t be so easily diverted. “She wanted more than I could give.”

He was quiet for a long time, his fingers tapping silently on the edge of the desk. Finally, Sara couldn’t take it.

“Len-”

“We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Whatever she was expecting, that hadn’t been it. “What?”

“You should move on.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

“I mean it, Sara.” He stood, taking a few steps away. “This isn’t going to work. There’s no future in this.”

“Not a normal future, sure, but so what? I want this. You.” She was irritated now, angry, verging on hurt, but trying to hold it back. She tried to put her hand on his arm, but he’d made himself incorporeal, and it went right through him. He took another step away.

“That’s only because of what we almost had. But that’s over.”

“Len-”

“I’m leaving.” Cool, simple, straight to the point.

“You just got here! Mick-”

“Mick understands. You should, too.”

“I thought that we-”

“We what, Lance?” Leonard countered, finally getting some heat into his voice. “That I’ll just hang around in the background, watching everyone grow old, and die, while I remain exactly the same? You’re selfish enough to demand that?”

The thought seemed grim, and it wasn’t one she’d anticipated. She backed down, unable to argue against that. If he really wanted to leave...well, isn’t that what Zari had just been arguing for? He started towards the door, silent footsteps reverberating on her soul if not her ears. She couldn’t just let him leave again. Not without trying.

“You said you loved me,” she called after him, ignoring how tiny her voice sounded, how weak, and brittle.

Leonard paused, but didn’t turn around. “Sometimes that’s not enough.”

Then, in a silent whisper, he vanished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANGST
> 
> Only one more chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So fun story, this was supposed to be a quick 1-2 chapter thing while I worked on my next longer fic. Of course, it grew and become a multi-chapter thing that consumed more of my time than I was anticipating. But, it was fun. Thanks for reading this rather off-base piece.  
> Hopefully the next story will be starting up soon! I'm very excited about it. 
> 
> And now, the finale.

Leonard strolled through Central City, completely undetected. His hands in his pockets to ward off the cold he didn’t feel, he kept his eyes on the sidewalk.

Life as a ghost wasn’t all that different from his life alive.

He stepped to the side, leaning against a building to rub his eyes. Though no one could see him, years of hiding emotions and weakness were hard to break.

Everything had gone from so perfect to so wrong, so quickly.

Mick and Ray had questioned him and filled him in on everything. It had all hit him a little harder than any of them thought it would.

His death. The splitting up of the team. Ray’s betrayal. Them fighting past him, and him killing Mick? But not really. Martin’s death. Rip’s death. Sara’s second death. The Hawks leaving. Jax leaving.

He’d seen bits and pieces of it, sure, but to hear it all laid out in such detail...it was rough.

Then he’d gone off to Constantine’s room, mastering the spells quickly, much to Constantine’s irritation. Before he left, John stopped him.

“She was doing okay without you. Heading towards a normal life with that bird, Sharpe,” John offered up, leaning against the wall.

Leonard stopped, facing him. “I’m well aware Sara can do just fine without me.”

“Then why are you here?” John asked, not in a way that said he wanted an answer. “You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be so...aware. I have to assume it’s unfinished business.”

“What business?”

“Sara Lance.”

Leonard frowned, but didn’t leave.

“Love is a hell of a power. Unrequited love less so, but missed chances, two ships passing in the night, fairy tale kind of love, that might bring you back,” John explained, his eyes narrowed as they stared at Leonard, trying to gauge him. “You love her.”

Leonard kept silent, not willing to lay it out for John Constantine of all men.

“But you’re still a ghost, mate. You don’t know when your business is finished. First time you kiss? First time you shag? First time you move in together somewhere? What’s got your soul so keen on staying here that you’re breaking the rules of mortality? And more importantly, what’s going to make it so she’s left alone again?”

“What?” Leonard asked, stepping nearer.

“Someday, your business is going to be finished. And you’ll leave, powers beyond your control pulling you back. And then she’ll be alone again, having built her life around a ghost.” John tilted his head. “I’ve no doubt you love her, but do you love her enough?”

“Enough to what?”

“To let her move on.”

He did love Sara.

So Leonard had left. Broken things off cleanly so Sara could move on. Part of him wished he could have moved on to whatever there was after death. If Sara was truly his unfinished business, then he wouldn’t ever be able to move on without her. He’d been reading anything he could get on ghosts, but the materials were so varied and contradictory, that he’d given up only part way in.

For the past six months, he’d wandered the streets of Central City. He’d seen Lisa, unable to stay away. He didn’t tell her he was dead, of course. He wouldn’t break her heart again. So he kept it vague, and Lisa was too happy to see him to question it further.

Mick had been less than pleased to hear he was leaving so soon.

“What the hell are you playing at?” Mick growled dangerously, and Leonard had a brief moment of concern that maybe ghosts could burn.

“It’s for the best,” he said, glancing around the bar they’d met in, wondering where his gun was.

“You better be damn sure about that, because that was the first time in a long time I’ve seen the boss actually happy.”

“Boss?” Leonard echoed, feeling a twinge of hurt that Mick had adopted Sara in his place, but also appreciating that he’d found something worth fighting for here.

“Yeah, Snart,” Mick said, as gently as he was capable of. “She’s been watching out for me best she could, and I’ve been trying to do the same. She’s the boss now. And you hurt her-”

“This is to keep from hurting her.”

Mick shook his head. “You’re gonna regret it.”

“Undoubtedly.” He held out his hand. “See you around.”

“You’d better.”

The sun was starting to go down, the streets emptying before Leonard moved back onto the sidewalk. He was getting worse with timing, not having a regular routine to ground him. He spent a good portion of his time reading, going for days without stopping. He’d walked from end to end of Central City and never staggered once. He thought he could walk to the bottom of the ocean, if he so chose, but maybe not just yet. He’d spent a few weeks in the CCPD’s records room, reviewing cold cases and trying to help them along. He’d spent his six months in all sorts of ways to keep himself occupied, but he could never get rid the real reason he was alone.

Because he was a damn coward.

He shouldn’t have left. He’d figured that only a couple weeks in. But he couldn’t go back. He couldn’t keep hurting Sara and going back. It wasn’t fair to her. Besides, a smaller, cowardly part of him feared she’d already moved on. Followed his advice and gone back to Ava or some other potential partner and was happy. He didn’t want to ruin it.

He knew now that John was wrong, in a way. Sara was his unfinished business, but it wasn’t going to keep them from being together. Because it wasn’t just about a kiss or sex or momentous occasions like buying a house.

His unfinished business was a life with her. All the things Constantine mentioned, and all the things he didn’t. What kept him here was his wish to spend every day with her, to wake up with her, to spend time with their friends, to fix time together. He’d only move on when Sara did.

But he’d blown it, in a moment of doubt. For fear of hurting her, he’d ruined any chance he had of a future, such as it was.

_ “Leonard.” _

An itch against his skin as a voice said his name. One that, after having Mick and Ray try, he knew could only belong to one person. He was almost weak enough to go to her, but he waited. Perhaps she’d been saying the name in passing. Telling her new lover of former ones. Something hot and sick pressed in his stomach at the thought, not that he had any right to it. Gritting his teeth, he continued down the street, the sun nearly down.

_ “Leonard.” _

Another itch, this one stronger than the first, an instinct to vanish and reappear wherever she was. Two could be a coincidence. He forced himself to remain in place, stopped walking, and slammed his eyes shut at the effort it took.

_ “Leonard.” _

It was unavoidable. He was drawn to the call, to her. There wasn’t any way of stopping it.

And god, he didn’t want to.

He vanished.

* * *

Sara walked along the bridge of the  _ WaveRider _ , trailing her fingers along the metal hull, the engines humming gently beneath her palm. A metallic, ceaseless heartbeat of one of the things she loved most in her life.

“How’re we looking, Gideon?” Sara asked.

_ “All systems normal, and functioning at full capacity, Captain.” _

“Great.” She glanced at the chair, then indulged herself because she could. “Let’s take her out for a spin.”

_ “With pleasure, Captain.” _

Sara jumped into the captain’s seat, and took off. The  _ WaveRider  _ soared up, far above the building where they’d landed in Central City for the rest of the crew to take a night off, far above the smog and pollution, even farther than that, above the clouds, watching the sun sink below the curve of Earth.

Sara hovered for a while, relishing in the silence. She set it on auto-pilot, then walked to the windows, staring at the array of red and oranges, deepening into violet and lavender, as the sun set below her.

She and Ava had gotten those drinks, but only that.

Ava threw back her shot, her eyes bleary from crying and alcohol. “That burns…”

Sara smiled, sipping her drink slowly. One of them had to remain sober, and Ava had earned the right to imbibe.

Ava ordered another drink, and Sara another water, as they sat at the bartop, Ava tipping back in her stool dangerously. Sara pressed her boot on the rung of Ava’s chair and kept her steady.

Throwing back the second shot, Ava winced, wiped the back of her mouth, and looked at Sara. “Why didn’t we work out?”

Sara chuckled, “Going right for it, huh?” Ava merely stared, so Sara leaned on the bar, playing with the straw in her glass. “We didn’t work out because although we care about each other, we want different things.”

“Like what?”

“You want a future. A normal life. I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“My home is on the  _ WaveRider _ . Anywhere else is a disappointment.”

This ship was the first place Sara had ever truly felt at home, since she was a child.

Though she knew it took a toll on the rest of the crew, Sara loved living out of time. Timeless. She loved fixing things and helping people because she hadn’t been able to do it for herself. The present had only ever brought her pain. She’d lost her dad, her sister, friends and family, and more in the present. So why wouldn’t she live out of time? The present always disappointed her, by not living up to her expectations, by taking things from her, by making her into a version of herself that felt false.

Once, she may have considered it running away. But it wasn’t running away. It was not being content with what everyone else had. And why should she be, when she had the opportunity for so much more? But now, there was a bit of struggle.

She was content, but not happy.

Oh, she’d tried, over the past six months. She went on dates, and she visited Star City, and she kept busy at work, and went out with friends, and read up on fugitives, and helped Charlie acclimate while trying to assist Constantine in returning her powers. She captured monsters and rescued princesses and learned more about what it meant to be a monster, and it wasn’t her, maybe it never had been. She was confident and satisfied with her job and her friends. The depression came every once in a while, but Ray was surprisingly helpful at listening, and Mick was even better at drinking. She’d mediated an intervention between John and Gideon, and the two were on much better terms. She and Gideon plotted and planned and gossiped, sometimes with Zari and John, sometimes not. Sara now knew every corner of the ship and could almost fix it as well as Zari. She kept her team happy and whole, making sure they all felt valued, because she’d made that mistake too many times to make it again.

It wasn’t like she couldn’t survive without Leonard. She’d proven time and time again she could survive without anyone. She didn’t need him. But she wanted him.

She wanted his sarcasm and irritating habit of interrupting her. She wanted his wit and logical mind, even when he sometimes took things too far and forget he had a heart, under that icy facade. She wanted him at her back and side, and even occasionally in her face when she needed to be taken down a peg. She wanted biting criticism and soft kisses. She wanted a hand in hers and a gun at her side. She wanted someone who stood up to her and for her and with her. Leonard had proven, both in life and death, that he would do all those things and so much more.

And yeah, that meant no normal future, but what the hell was normal for her? This, flying a timeship with fugitives, criminals, warlocks, and geniuses, where an AI was her best friend, and her job was dressing up and beating down, this was her life and she loved it. If Leonard didn’t want to be a part of it, that was one thing.

But if he was walking away out of some noble, irritating, self-sacrificing reason, she had a few choice words to say on the subject.

Sara stood on the bridge, staring out over the city, the  _ world _ , she’d ruined and saved and given her life for twice and would do so again, if the need came. And she decided that if an uppity ghost and his misguided attempt at helping her was all that stood between her and complete happiness, she’d take those odds.

Under her breath, more for herself than anyone else, she whispered, “Leonard. Leonard. Leonard.”

There was no flash of lightning. No crack of thunder. She blinked and he was there in front of her.

“Assassin.”

“Crook.”

He looked exactly the same and she drank him in, wondering if he was doing the same. His expression was controlled, but his eyes kept returning to hers instead of scoping the room like he usually did.

“How have you been?” she asked.

“Fine.”

“Really?”

He nodded once, slowly. “No.”

She took a step nearer, the admission making her bold. “Me too.”

He didn’t move, he didn’t take a step that she could see, but he was suddenly closer. She blinked, narrowing her eyes at him slightly.

“New trick?”

“One of several.”

She smiled and his gaze dropped to her mouth briefly, before tracking back up.

“You and the Director?” he asked cautiously.

“Never panned out. Find the unlife you wanted?”

“No.”

“Why’d you leave?” she asked, needing to know for sure. She would take the chance, take the risk, because it he’d done it first.

_ “And me and you.” _

“I wanted you to have a normal life.”

“My life was never normal,” Sara said, trying to be gentle. “When you left, you just made it lonely.” She could tell it stung and her heart went out to him, but he had to know the truth.

“I didn’t want to hurt you again, if I moved on.”

“Some time is better than no time,” she reminded him, reaching out to take his hand. It was solid, and not so cold in her fingers. Leonard ran his along her palm before allowing her to entangle their hands together. His thumb began tracing circles along the edge of her hand.

“I want this, Lance. All of it.” He sounded almost apologetic.

“I want this, too.”

“I can’t give you anything,” Leonard said quietly, catching her eye, as if had to be sure she heard this clearly and without confusion. “No kids. No job. No real future.”

“Never really saw myself as a mom. My job isn’t exactly normal. And what’s a future when you’re a time traveler?” Sara countered every one of his points.

“I’ve got nothing to offer.” His other hand came up, his thumb running over her cheek, despite his words.

Sara kept her gaze steady. “Do you love me?”

The corner of his mouth tilted up. “I love you.”

“Sometimes that’s enough.”

Leonard remained still, leaving it up to her, though his smile widened, his hand still on her face.

Sara rose up on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to his gently. “I love you, too.”

His hand slipped back around to cradle her head, keeping her pressed against him as he bent down and kissed her deeply.

This was more than enough.

This was perfect.


End file.
